


Christmas

by folkinround



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkinround/pseuds/folkinround
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't usually celebrate Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I still have mixed feelings about this. Wrote it all in one go on Sunday night, and I kind of like it enough to put it out here, I think. Happy Christmas for those who celebrate it :)

They don’t usually celebrate Christmas. In fact, Sebastian goes to sleep on the 24th and doesn’t even remember what day it is ( _irrelevant,_ says Jim, and shrugs). He wakes up on the 25th and it takes him turning the TV on to realise it’s Christmas ( _what’s your problem with it, Sebastian_ , asks Jim, and keeps him occupied for the rest of the day). By mid-evening, Sebastian’s half-upset that he didn’t manage to buy anything special for dinner, at least, so he runs to the store, buys them frozen pizza (which tastes like shit, and he knows Jim’ll pick on him for that, but hey, it’s the best he can do at this point) and a bottle of wine before going back to the flat.

 

He gladly finds Jim still busy with something in his office when he gets back, and works on heating up their dinner, doesn’t make Jim acknowledge he’s there until it’s all ready.

 

Sebastian sets dinner on the coffee table, takes out fancy dishes and two glasses for the wine, balancing the casuality of the meal and eating on the living-room with the little fancy things he knows Jim likes like the wine and the dishes.

 

“Boss,” he then calls, and Jim comes out of the office minutes later.

 

“Oh no,” he says, sounding just slightly surprised, in a good way, but it’s enough for Sebastian.

 

“Shut up,” he says, but Jim cuts him, adding, “this is ridiculous, Tiger.”

 

“Yeah,” Sebastian laughs and shrugs. “It’s he best I could so, so shut the fuck up and Merry Christmas.”

 

Jim’s next gesture is a surprise for Sebastian, even after all this time they’ve been together, this thing they are now. He laughs, then comes up to Sebastian and kisses him, not just a light, teasing little peck, but a proper kiss, tongue and teeth and also something else that Sebastian doesn’t quite recognise, can’t quite place. But that feels just as fucking brilliant anyway.

 

They have the ( _fucking atrocious, Sebastian_ ) pizza off their fanciest plates and drink the ( _now_ this _is much better_ ) wine. They kiss again afterwards, Jim tasting of cheap pepperoni and fruity red wine. His kisses still have that unreadable, unknown something, but Sebastian stops thinking about it after two minutes. He kisses back like he means to, lets Jim decide what he wants when they make love afterwards (on the living-room _floor_ , Jim’ll most likely complain in the morning) and when they get to bed later on, he doesn’t complain about the short, thin, but yet slightly muscular arms that hug him from behind, nor does he complain about the soft, wet couple of kisses pressed to the back of his neck right as he’s falling asleep.

 

“Thanks, Tiger,” Jim all but whispers, mouth still somehow pressed against the sniper’s skin. And then, “Merry Christmas.”

 

“Yeah, babe,” Sebastian replies, and falls asleep less than a minute later, feeeling warm and full and content, with those arms still wrapped lazily around him, Jim’s warm breath hitting the back of his neck as he too falls asleep.


End file.
